Oblivious love
by Mysconesarestones
Summary: Romano tries to convey his feelings to Spain during break at a meeting but will he so much as get a word in when problems such as nations, other romances and sheer embarrassment keep popping up? Written for a Secret Santa Spamano thing on Tumblr. SPAMANO with side GerIta Rated for implied. I'm sorry about the cheesy title '


**A.N. **Hello! This was written for the Spamano Secret Santa thing on Tumblr for **dreamer-of-prospit**! I really hope you like it!

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The Italian stared down at his hands, pretending that the color on his cheeks was from the fact that the sun was coming through the windows and hitting him rather than the Spaniard across the table from him.

He didn't know what was so hard about this. All he would have to do is stand up when the potato bastard called break for the meeting and go over to Spain. Then it was a simple three words that would have to come out of his mouth. Easy. The end.

Except for the fact that it felt like something besides words were about to come out of his mouth. Why was he so damn nervous?! This was getting annoying.

"Yo, Germany. Is it time for lunch yet?" America asked, causing Germany to turn to look at him and scowl at seeing his not-the-cleanest combat boots on the table and the chair being leaned back on so it was precariously balancing on two legs.

"I suppose. Alright, break time! Everyone out! Be back in forty five minutes or the doors _will _be shut and locked!" he announced, causing all the bored, half-asleep nations to jerk out of their not very well hidden slumber or close their laptops to hide the fact that their 'meeting notes' looked suspiciously like Tumblr and Facebook.

Ok. It was time. Let's do this.

Lovino stood up, closing his laptop that held a blank word document labeled 'notes' and fixed his tie subtly before making his way over to Spain.

"C-Ciao bastard." He stuttered. Why did the sun have to hit him straight in the face and make his face red at a time like this!?

The Spaniard turned away from France and beamed at Lovino, but his smile faded quickly. "Are you alright, Roma? Your face is all red and your hands are shaking. Are you sick? Do you want me to take you home?"

Damn it! The Italian crossed his arms to hide that his hands were indeed shaking. "No! I have something to tell you if you'd just listen."

"Oh, alright." The smile that could easily make Lovino's heart flutter was back on Spain's face, causing the younger man's face to turn a darker red.

"Well…" He paused, rubbing the back of his head. The Italian opened his mouth to continue but noticed that a certain Prussian (allowed into the meeting due to his brother thinking that it was still necessary for him to know the current events) and Frenchman were trying to make it not obvious that they were listening intently and failing pathetically.

"H-Hey! You two bastards, I'm trying to talk to Spain and you won't go away! Leave!" He snapped defensively. This was embarrassing enough without _them _listening and snickering.

Spain frowned softly and pursed his lips slightly, looking worried about the man. It only drew Lovino's eyes to his lips and turned his thoughts to how nice it must be to kiss them, causing his to blush deeply and look away.

"It's alright Roma, we can go out into the hallway or somewhere else private." Spain said, mouth quirking in a smile again.

Lovino scowled at the troublesome two and nodded at his crush, turning with a huff and walking towards the door with his arms still crossed.

As he was reaching to push the door open, Spain reached over his shoulder and pushed it open, placing a gentle hand on Lovino's back and causing him to jump, a sort of electric warmth spreading from where he was being touched.

"Are you sure you're alright, _amigo_?" The Spanish nation asked, "You're so jumpy and shaky today…"

"I-I'm fine." He said, not meaning for it to come out as snappy as it did. Lovino sighed as they turned a few corners and went to stand where they shouldn't be interrupted while talking.

"You're acting awfully strange, are you positive?" Spain asked again, frowning slightly.

Lovino had expected to be asked again, he knew he was acting a bit strange, but what he wasn't expecting was for when he turned around, the Spaniard to be millimeters away and be brushing Lovino's hair out of his face, then causing their foreheads to press together with a hand on Lovi's cheek.

This was the way Spain used to check for a fever when Lovino was small and used to be a comforting gesture but now only served to make his face explode in a blush and make him stumble back, his back hitting the wall quickly.

"You really _are _jumpy. I'm just checking for a fever, Roma." He said in a caring tone, stepping forward and pressing their foreheads together again.

Lovino squeezed his eyes shut and pressed himself against the wall as much as possible, embarrassed to have Spain's mouth about a millimeter away where he could just tilt his chin forward and… NO.

"Your face is warm." The Spaniard pursed his lips again, moving away.

_Of course it is with you right there…_ He thought, opening his eyes. "I'm not sick!"

Well. At least not physically. No promises for lovesick though.

"Alright, alright." Spain said, holding his hands up in defense but smiling never the less.

Lovino took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily. He opened his eyes and his mouth to speak but was interrupted by his brother's voice coming from down the hall.

"Germany~? Kiss me again~." Followed by the sound of stumbling footsteps, but only from one person. Germany must be carrying him. Then silence before a thud was heard and a soft yelp. That bastard better not be hurting his brother!

"Tut mir Leid, leibe. (sorry, love) Your hair got in my eyes." A deep, accented voice said and footsteps continued coming toward them.

Spain looked around and Lovino wasn't prepared when his sleeve was grabbed and he was pulled into the nearest room, a broom closet. They made it just in time, as the footsteps stumbled past and bumped into the closet before a door was heard opening and closing.

The taller nation chuckled. "They're meant for each other. What were you saying before?"

Any coherent thought had been left in the hallway as now they were about half an inch apart, forced together by the close space. Lovino had no idea what he had been about to say.

"I-I-I… Y-You…"

Oh what the hell.

"Sp-spainIreallylikeyouasinloveandI'mtryingtotellyoubutyouwon'tlisten!"

The whole sentence came out jumbled and crammed together but it was out. He'd said it. And now his chest felt about ten times lighter and he gave a relieved sigh.

Spain's reaction was to laugh softly and moved forward, slipping a hand around Lovino's shoulder to the tender skin where his head met his neck, and kiss him deeply.

Lovino was taken aback at first and didn't move but the Spaniards lips moving against his coaxed him into closing his eyes and melting into the kiss.

The shorter nation moved so his arms were wrapped around Spain's neck and they were pulled closer.

Lovino felt Spain smile against his lips and that drew a slight smile out of him as well. They kissed until the need for air overcame the need for contact and they stood, soft gasping for air the only thing to be heard in the silent closet.

"I love you too." finally broke through the air and Lovino smiled softly, caused by the Spaniards beaming at him.

"Spain-"

"Antonio. My name is Antonio." He corrected, smiling.

The nation's only shared their human names with people who were very close and very special to them. Their guardians normally chose their names but the countries changed them when he became independent and even their guardians didn't tell their charges their names. Therefor he never knew Sp- no, Antonio's.

The thought of knowing made his hand's shake and his heart warm and a feeling he couldn't quite describe, like he needed to laugh, scream or cry just something to express how happy he was, made his throat hitch. The Italian chose to laugh and chuckled softly, covering his mouth with one hand to try to hide the sound.

"Why do you try to hide your laugh? It's beautiful." Antonio chided him, pulling his hands away with a smile.

"My name is Lovino. Lovino Vargas." He said, eyes shining. He couldn't remember why he'd been so nervous. Now he might as well have been floating.

"That's an amazing name." Antonio murmured before leaning down and capturing his lips in a kiss again.

Lovino had been ready this time and kissed back deeply, tangling his fingers in Antonio's hair. Because of the height difference, one of Antonio's hands supported his neck so the angle wouldn't be painful and awkward and the other snaked around his waist, coming to rest on his waistband.

Say what you might about Antonio but he was sinfully good at this.

Needless to say about forty-five minutes later, when Prussia and France had gotten settled again, boot-clad feet on the table and arms crossed, were being interrogated to know where Romano and Spain were by Germany, who's hair was slightly disheveled, the two just smirked knowingly and high-fived.


End file.
